Pastors need breaks too: A Perkins alumnus' 3,200-mile journey of faith and reflection

For many pastors, ministry is a lifelong journey of caring for others. But what happens when those called to serve need time to care for themselves?

Some may find restoration through stillness.

For the Rev. Jon Bailey ’10, executive pastor at Immanuel United Methodist Church in Des Moines, Iowa, the answer came through a 3,200-mile bicycle journey across the United States. By reconnecting with the purest forms of humanity along the way, Bauk. By making his decade-long dream a reality, Bailey reconnected with the purest forms of humanity.

Bailey chose to travel from San Diego, California, to St. Augustine, Florida, relying on his bicycle, the hospitality of strangers and his faith to guide him.

A journey 10 years in the making

Bailey's passion for cycling began in 2014 when he organized a group of clergy and laity to participate in RAGBRAI (Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa). The experience sparked an ambition to one day cycle across the country.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, cycling offered Bailey an opportunity to connect with nature, colleagues and friends while navigating the challenges of ministry.

By 2025, Bailey recognized that although his work remained meaningful, he was overdue for pastoral renewal leave. After his congregation was adopted by another church, he saw an opportunity to pursue his longtime goal following years of demanding ministry.

"I knew I needed to be recalibrated, refocused and reconnected," Bailey said.

He approached the journey as a pilgrimage, comparing it to the Camino de Santiago in Europe, where travelers undertake long journeys of spiritual reflection and discovery.

Finding faith along the way

With thousands of miles ahead of him, Bailey initially questioned his motivations. Was the journey about testing his physical endurance or proving something to himself?

As the miles accumulated, his understanding began to change.

"At first I said the why was to test myself, and I worried that was just ego," Bailey said. "On the road I realized it wasn't about doing hard things so others could look on. It was about doing hard things so I could look in."

Long stretches of cycling without digital distractions offered something often difficult to find in his everyday ministry: uninterrupted time for reflection.

"In the desert there was no cell service and nowhere to charge, so there were no podcasts, no audiobooks, and nothing to hide behind," he said. "I was left alone with my head and my heart, asking questions and actually listening."

While traveling through Fabens, Texas, Bailey found himself without a place to stay. A chance interaction at a grocery store led to an invitation from a stranger named Jorge, who welcomed Bailey into his home. That evening, Bailey shared a meal with Jorge and his family, listened to their stories of hardship and faith.

"I didn't earn it and I didn't create it," Bailey said. "It was the clearest picture of grace I'd seen in a long time."

Similar encounters of generosity unfolded throughout the trip, from United Methodist clergy in Louisiana to strangers who offered shelter, meals and encouragement.

Learning to receive care

When reflecting on the commitment to pastoral ministry, Bailey often remembers an old joke.

“One pastor says to another pastor that he never takes time off because the devil never does. The second pastor looks at the first pastor and says that’s probably why the devil is the devil,” he said.

Bailey noted how easy it is for pastors to spend their time as the host and forget how to be the guest.

Throughout his travels, Bailey learned what it meant to receive the same hospitality and compassion he sought to extend through his ministry.
"If we never step away, we can end up treating people as extras in our own story instead of holy, sacred people in front of us," he said. "Good ministry requires time away so that we can be more present when we are near."

Sustaining the journey of ministry

After completing his cross-country journey, Bailey returned to his congregation with a renewed understanding of the kind of spiritual leader he strives to become.

"I want to be the version of me who takes a breath when depleted and centers himself before responding to others," he said. "I want to be gentle and compassionate no matter who is in front of me."

As he continues serving his congregation, Bailey carries the stories of those he encountered, the strength of his United Methodist connections and a greater appreciation for the importance of intentional spiritual care.

"I came home grateful and changed," Bailey said, "and I'm still learning what that change looks like Sunday to Sunday."